


Event Horizon

by Winglesss



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Castiel Has a Cat, Depression, Doctor Dean, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Past Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sharing a Bed, Strangers, Suicidal Dean, Suicidal Thoughts, Texting, Veteran Dean, Writer Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 21:16:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6025291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winglesss/pseuds/Winglesss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel couldn't have helped his sister. That's why being offered a chance to help somebody else dealing with suicidal thoughts he took it without hesitation.<br/>When he gets the first text from someone who needs his help, nothing goes as he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Event Horizon

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Writing Prompt Wednesday's week 9 prompt: Texting with strangers.(TRIGGER WARNING: Suicide.) After my brother/sister killed themselves, I joined a program that gives my cell phone number, anonymously, to someone dealing with suicidal ideation, so that they can have someone to contact, any time, day or night, with the condition that the two of us can never meet in person, and I’ve just gotten my first text from my first person.
> 
> Beta'ed by lovely [castiels-playdoll](http://castiels-playdoll.tumblr.com/)  
> You can find me on [tumblr](http://cas-lost-grace.tumblr.com/)

 

> _In general relativity, an **event horizon** is a boundary in spacetime beyond which events cannot affect an outside observer. In layman's terms, it is defined as "the point of no return", i.e., the point at which the gravitational pull becomes so great as to make escape impossible. (Wikipedia)_

 

Its 12:30 PM. Cas is in the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of milk, his cat is rubbing himself against his legs. His phone buzzes. Thinking it’s just Meg rambling about her date, he ignores it. Then he remembers the program and his chest clenches.

He’s been in the program for over a week and hasn’t received a single text yet, which is good, because it means no one needed his help, but every time he gets an unexpected message he feels a mix of fear and anticipation, because he’s excited about having a chance to help someone. Just like now.

He walks into the living room, where the TV is on some space documentary. He picks up the phone and sees a text from an unknown ID. He takes a deep breath before he opens it.

_I’m done. I’m gonna end this. I thought someone should know._

Castiel’s heart skips a beat. There’s a real person on the other end who feels like killing themselves. What the hell is he supposed to say? This was a bad idea, why had he even thought that this program was a good idea? Because he thought that maybe if Anna had someone to talk to...

He looks at the phone he’s clutching in his shaking hand. He needs to say something, anything.

_What’s your name?_

There’s a pause. Just when Castiel starts to panic, his phone buzzes with an answer.

_Dean_

He lets out a breath and tries to imagine who he’s talking with. He can guess it’s a man, but how old is he? Oh god, what if he’s just a teenager?

_Hello, Dean. My name is Castiel. I was just watching a documentary on black holes. Do you like space?_

He hits send and only then he thinks about what he typed. It’s stupid, but it’s a distraction and distraction is good for someone in Dean’s situation, right?

_I feel like there’s a black hole inside my chest right now and I’m being sucked in. I’m sorry I bothered you, Cas. Enjoy your documentary._

Castiel clenches his teeth and types an answer as quickly as possible.

_You’re not bothering me. I’m here for you. We can talk_

Cas turns the TV off and takes a sip of his milk, then looks at the reply.

_I don’t wanna talk. I want this to end_

Running his hand through his hair, Cas tries to come up with a good answer. He wants to get Dean to talk about why he’s so desperate that he wants to end his life, but at the same time he doesn’t want to push him.

_What do you want to end?_

The silence of his house is pressing down on Cas as he waits for the reply. He thinks Dean’s not going to answer and starts thinking of another message. But the reply comes eventually and it’s a long one.

_The pain. The nightmares, flashbacks. The feeling that... everything’s wrong. That I am wrong. I just can’t go on like this. I tried, I swear I tried. I cut off drinking, I returned to work, I even talked to a shrink, but it was pointless. Everything is pointless. I know it won’t be okay ever again, it can’t be. I just want to rest in peace, that’s what I want. Besides it’s not like anyone will miss me._

Cas reads the message twice. He types: _you can’t give up, I bet there’s someone who would miss you_

He frowns at his own words. What if Dean actually is totally alone? Words like this never help anyone, it’s like telling him to man up when his heart is bleeding out. Cas deletes the message and sends simple: _tell me what happened to you_ instead.

This time he doesn’t freak out when it takes Dean a bit longer to reply. He expects a long explanation, but he gets just four words that make his breath hitch.

_I killed my brother_

The first thing that runs through his head is that it isn’t true. What Dean told him makes him believe that he might suffer with PTSD so maybe there was some kind of accident that Dean blames himself for. Had he really just killed his brother, he wouldn’t have gotten Cas’ number in the program, right? Castiel certainly hopes so.

Before he can think of the right way to ask Dean to elaborate he receives another message.

_Shit, I bet I just freaked you out. I swear I’m not a murderer... well, not that I didn’t kill anyone... oh man I’m just making this worse, right? Okay so I was a soldier and Sammy was too. He got killed on a mission. It was my fault._

Cas takes a shaky breath. So Dean is a soldier. Not a teenager then. Cas can’t even imagine what he has gone through. War does terrible things to people and they don’t even have to lose their siblings.

_What happened?_

He hopes Dean will be willing to share it with a stranger.

_I could have killed the enemy, but it was just a boy. Just a little boy, hadn’t even hit puberty yet, the gun was so big for him. I hesitated, he didn’t, he shot Sammy, injured other two of my men. I did everything to save him, but Sam died in my arms._

As he reads, Cas feels tears prickling in his eyes. He wants to say he’s sorry but he knows how useless those words are. He wants to tell Dean it wasn’t his fault, that it was the war that killed his brother, not him. He doesn’t say that either because he knows Dean wouldn’t listen.

_My sister died last year. Suicide. I blamed myself for it, because I should have been there for her._

He chews on his lower lip as he waits for Dean’s reaction.

_It wasn’t your fault_

Cas smiles a little as he types

_And Sam’s death wasn’t yours_

_Shit, Cas, now I can’t kill myself! It would be really shitty of me to die on you, wouldn’t it?_

Cas huffs out a laugh, a stray tear runs down his cheek.

_You shouldn’t kill yourself, but not because of me_

For a moment he thinks Dean’s out of the worst, but the next message proves him wrong.

 _There’s nothing worth living for, not for me. Sam was everything I had. My mom died when I was a kid and dad was an asshole who died a few years ago. I’m a wreck, Cas. I’m not able to do my job anymore. Hell I’m barely able to go grocery shopping without losing my mind at every loud noise. I wake up to an empty apartment every morning and I wish I was dead. I just have this feeling like I want to rip my veins out of my arms whenever I’m alone. And that’s all the time._ _I’m sorry, Cas. I might not kill myself tonight, but I will end this soon. There’s nothing you can do. I’m beyond the event horizon._

Cas swears under his breath. He feels a swell of panic.

He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until he’s holding his phone to his ear. It rings once, twice and he starts to understand what a stupid move this was. He’s about to hang up when the line clicks.

"I thought this was supposed to be only about texting."

Dean’s voice is very deep and kind of husky from disuse, maybe from smoking, but there’s something about it that Castiel finds pleasant.

"Where are you?" Cas blurts out. He’s normally not much of a spontaneous person, but today is special in many ways.

"In my living room, why?" Dean asks, sounding confused.

"I mean city. Where do you live?"

He can practically hear Dean’s scowl. "Lawrence, Kansas."

Cas let’s out a harsh breath. He doesn’t know if it’s just a crazy coincidence or if it’s common in the program to connect people who live in the same area.

"Let’s meet," he says.

"What?"

"Look, I know I swore I wouldn’t do that, but I really think we should meet."

There’s a stunned silence on the other end of the line.

"Why?"

"Because when you’re alone, you feel like ripping your veins out and I don’t want you to feel that way."

It’s weird not knowing what Dean looks like and not being able to imagine his expression as he’s considering the offer.

"Well, normally I would worry that you might be a serial killer, but in my situation, that wouldn’t really be a problem."

Cas snorts. "Is that a yes?"

"Yes. But be warned that I look like shit."

"We’re not going to a prom, Dean."

It’s Dean’s turn to huff out a laugh.

"So is there somewhere we can meet at-" Cas looks at the clock - "one in the morning?"

 

Cas parks in front of the diner Dean gave him directions to. Through the window, he can only see a young couple at one of the tables and his heart skips a beat at the thought that Dean might have change his mind.

When he enters and looks around, he sees a tall man occupying a booth in the far corner, hunched over a cup of coffee. Cas heads to his booth. For some reason he has a feeling that even if the place was crowded, he would know that this is Dean. There’s a cloud of sorrow around him.

Dean looks up and Cas feels his heart pick up its pace.

"Cas?"

"Hello, Dean." He takes the seat across from Dean and shifts uncomfortably when he realizes the man is staring at him.

He raises an eyebrow. "Dean?"

Dean shakes his head. "Sorry, you just... you’re not what I expected."

Castiel’s eyes narrow. "And what was that?"

Dean shrugs. "Just not this," he mutters dropping his eyes to his cup.

Cas must admit that Dean isn’t what he expected either. Well, he’s tall and muscular as you would expect from a soldier, but his lips are soft and full, almost feminine and his big eyes are rimmed with thick long lashes. It contrasts well with his chiseled jaw that is covered with reddish stubble. All in all Dean is very handsome even now when he looks like he’s been dragged through hell (and he has been, actually). A small voice in his head is telling Cas the fact that Dean is attractive will only make things complicated, but he pushes it as far away as possible.

"You shouldn’t drink coffee so late at night. You won’t sleep," he says when he realizes neither of them has spoken a single word for a while.

Dean’s lips curl into a mirthless smile.

"There’s a thing I haven’t spilled yet about myself," he says, his voice dull. It makes Cas lean closer.

"What is it?"

Dean looks at him. His eyes are green and so sad it almost makes Cas choke on air.

"I’m actually a doctor. When I got back and somewhat pulled myself together I got a job at ER. The other day I performed an emergency surgery I know from the field." He heaves a deep breath and averts his eyes again before he continues.

"It went awry. The patient died on me. I kinda broke down. They forced me to take a week off. I haven’t slept ever since."

Cas’ lips fall apart. No wonder Dean isn’t doing well. Losing a patient on top of all the mess he’s been through would break anyone.

"You can’t sleep because you keep thinking about it?" Cas knows how that feels. To lie in bed and think about all the things that went wrong, that you could have done differently.

Dean gives a small nod. "That too. But mostly the nightmares. They got worse. I’m actually so scared of them I can’t force myself to close my eyes."

Dean’s words make a wave of deep sadness wash over Cas. This man doesn’t deserve this, no one does.

"How long has it been?" he asks softly.

"Three days. I guess I drifted off a few times, but I don’t think you could call that sleep."

"Alright," Cas breathes out and pushes himself to his feet. "Let’s go."

Dean looks up at him with surprise clear in his face.

"Where?"

"To my place, you’re going to sleep," he says sternly.

Dean stares at him, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly before he finally finds his words.

"What the hell, man? You can’t boss me around like this, you’re a stranger."

"I might be a stranger, but I’m also someone who cares about you, which is something you need desperately. So get up and let me take care of you."

"What if I don’t want to be taken care of?"

Cas props his hand on the table so he’s leaning down to Dean.

"You also want to die so I don’t think what you want or don’t want is relevant to your wellbeing."

He watches Dean’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. Dean looks into his cup, which is still half full, and then he gets up without a word. Cas tries to hide his triumphant smile as he walks out of the diner with Dean on his heels.

Outside he heads to his car, but a strong hand grabs his wrist, making him stop and turn around.

“Why are you doing this?" Dean asks, a deep frown creasing his brow. "Is it because of your sister?"

Castiel shakes his head, ignoring the sparks that come alive under his skin where Dean is touching him.

"No, It’s because of you." He realizes they’re standing so close that he can see Dean’s freckles even in the poor light of street lamps, but he doesn’t step back.

"Terrible things happened to you and no matter what you think, they weren’t your fault. I get that you feel like there’s no point in living, but that’s not true. There’s always something to live for and I refuse to believe you’re beyond saving."

Having heard those things thousand times, Dean makes an annoyed face and lets go of Cas’ hand. To get his attention back, Castiel gently places a hand on his shoulder.

"You don’t deserve this. No one deserves to suffer like you do. But you, Dean, you’re a doctor and you loved your brother and in my books that’s enough to make you a good guy."

Dean is looking at him like he can’t believe he’s real. Castiel gives his shoulder a little squeeze.

"That’s why I’m doing it. Because I don’t want you to die."

"You must be crazy," Dean breathes out.

Castiel tilts his head and smiles a little.

"Maybe. But as you said, you have nothing to lose, so you can take an invitation from a total stranger."

Dean shrugs and nods.

They get into the car without another word and by the time Cas pulls out of the parking lot, the silence gets a bit uncomfortable.

"Did you know there’s a supermassive black hole in the middle of our galaxy?" Cas says.

Dean huffs out a laugh. "You’re such a nerd, Cas. You would get along well with-" he trails off and Cas feels a pang of pain. He knows how it feels when he talks about Anna, forgetting for a brief moment that she’s gone.

Instinctively, he reaches for Dean and pats his knee a bit awkwardly.

"It’s okay," Dean breathes out, "I’m okay." They both know it’s a lie, but Cas considers the fact that Dean puts on the effort to pretend as a good sign.

He doesn’t try for a small talk for the rest of the way.

When they enter Cas’ apartment, Dean whistles.

"Nice place, Cas," he says looking around. It makes Cas proud.

"What do you do for living, by the way? I guess something that doesn’t require getting up early since you’re so willing to spend the night saving strangers."

Cas smiles. "I’m a writer."

Dean’s brows shoot up to his hairline. "Really? Are you famous?"

"Define famous," Cas mumbles. He feels his cheeks warming up as usual when somebody asks about his work.

"Do I know you?"

Cas snorts. "How could I know? But probably not. My books aren’t widely popular, just enough to pay for my rent together with the lessons I give at the University."

"Hmm," Dean tilts his head, thinking. "I don’t remember any book written by a Castiel."

"I don’t use my real name," Cas replies, shrugging his coat off. Dean follows suit and Cas takes his jacket from him to hang it in the hall.

"So what’s your pen name?" Dean inquires.

"I’m not telling you."

"Why? Are you ashamed of your work? Do you write those porn novels for housewives?"

Castiel turns to him, frowning. "First of all, any kind of literature is valid. Second, no I don’t write such novels."

His expression relaxes a bit when he sees a playful smile on Dean’s lips. It’s simply too charming to resist.

"So what kind of books do you write?"

Cas lets out a defeated sigh.

"Some call them fantasy, some sci-fi, others magic realism. For me they are just stories."

Dean’s smile widens. It’s a beautiful sight even though his eyes still look tired.

"Will you write about me?"

Cas rolls his eyes and crosses his arms on his chest.

"Do you want me to?"

This time Dean full on grins. "Yeah. Would be cool."

"Okay. I will, but only if you don’t kill yourself." With that he leaves to the living room, ignoring the hard look Dean is giving him.

He stops when he hears a soft "ugh" coming from behind him.

Turning around he sees Dean standing in the doorway, Cas’ cat rubbing against his ankles.

"What’s wrong, Dean? Are you afraid of cats?"

"No! I just... I don’t really like them. I’m allergic."

"Is it gonna be a problem?" Cas asks, concerned.

Dean shakes his head. "No, I take pills. My neighbor has a cat that keeps sneaking into my house."

"Well, you don’t have to worry then."

Dean stays frozen at place, looking at the animal purring happily.

"Dean?"

"I...ugh... won’t it get angry if I don’t like... pet it and just walk into it’s territory?"

Cas bursts into laughter, stopping only when he sees Dean’s genuinely uncomfortable expression.

"It’s not it, Dean. His name is Schrödinger and you can just ignore him. He won’t bother you."

"Schrödinger? Oh god, you’re a bigger nerd then I thought."

Cas tries not to laugh as he watches the man maneuver around the cat.

"Are you hungry or do you want to go straight to bed?"

Dean’s lips curl into a smirk.

"Well, I could use some wine and dine before you take me to bed."

Cas gives him an unamused look, but something in his chest leaps at the thought that Dean might actually be interested. He’s just joking, though, so Cas chases the thought away.

"I have some left overs," he says and followed by Dean walks to the kitchen.

"What’s that sound?" Dean asks, reacting to the rattling noise that fills the small place.

"It’s the fridge. It’s been doing that for days, I need to call someone about it.”

To Cas’ surprise, Dean opens the fridge and stares into it for a moment.

"Do you have a screwdriver?"

Cas crooks an eyebrow. "You can fix things?"

Dean shrugs. "Fixing things makes me almost as happy as fixing people."

"Wow, you really are a great guy, aren’t you?" He doesn’t miss the blush that spreads on Dean’s face even though the man tries hard to hide it.

Cas tells him where to find some basic tools and Dean fiddles with the fridge while Cas reheats some casserole.

 

They settle in front of the TV with plates balanced on their knees.

"Uhm... I have a recorded episode of my favorite show from yesterday, if you don’t mind," Cas says as he turns the TV on.

"Is it something about space?"

"It’s Doctor Sexy."

"Oh, yeah, its okay, I don’t mind." Dean keeps his face and voice so neutral that it makes Cas sure he’s hiding something.

A few minutes into the episode, it’s clear that Dean’s secretly a fan of the show as he lively discusses the characters with Cas. He points out a few medical inaccuracies, but there’s so little focus on the medical stuff in the show that he’s apparently still able to enjoy it.

"What makes doctor sexy so sexy?" he asks when the episode’s over.

Cas takes a minute to think about it, staring into his empty plate.

"I think he’s kind of an asshole, but we know that under the hard facade there’s a gooey center and that he’s able to love very deeply."

When Dean doesn’t react for several seconds, Cas looks up, afraid that what he said was stupid. Dean is staring at him with a soft smile and a glint in his eyes.

"I was about to say cowboy boots, but you kinda made it deep."

They both chuckle and it’s amazing to see Dean like that. It doesn’t mean he’s magically cured, but being able to forget about his pain even for a moment does him good.

"Do you wear cowboy boots?"

With another chuckle, Dean shakes his head.

"No, but you should see me in my uniform. I’m irresistible," he says with a wink.

"I bet."

Cas’ heart is beating so hard he wonders if Dean can hear it in the suddenly silent room.

They stare at each other. Castiel notices Dean’s eyes darting to his lips and he automatically wets them with his tongue.

Dean turns away, clearing his throat.

Cas feels a hot wave of embarrassment rushing to his cheeks.

"Okay. We should go to sleep. There’s a spare toothbrush in the bathroom. I’m going to prepare a special drink for you, it will help you fall asleep."

He half-expects Dean to protest, but the man just mutters a thank you and goes to the bathroom.

 

Castiel prepares the drink and because Dean’s still in the bathroom, he changes into his PJ’s and turns off all the lights, trusting Dean to follow the only remaining light into the bedroom.

When Dean appears in just his shirt and boxers, face flushed from being washed, he swallows thickly.

"You really want to share the bed?" Dean asks hovering in the middle of the room.

Castiel nods resolutely.

"Yes. This way if you have a nightmare, I can wake you up. I’m a light sleeper."

Dean’s face distorts into an almost pained grimace.

"Dude, I’m not sure you know what you’re getting yourself into. When I have a nightmare, I think I’m back in fucking _war_. I can get kinda violent."

"I don’t mind."

Dean shrugs and slips under the covers.

"Don’t hate me if I punch you."

"Don’t worry. Now drink." He gestures to the steaming mug on the bedside table.

"Wow, smells good," Dean says as he takes it in his hands, absorbing its warmth through his palms.

"Tastes even better. And most importantly it works," Cas answers and takes a sip from his own mug.

"What’s in it? Rohypnol?"

Cas scrunches his nose. "Just milk, honey and a pinch of nutmeg."

Dean takes a small experimental sip, then takes a huge gulp, moaning appreciatively.

Proud that he likes it, Cas grins at him brightly.

They enjoy their drink in silence, which is broken by Dean.

"Cas?"

"Hm?"

"How did you get over it? Over your sister?" Dean asks in a soft voice, barely louder than a whisper.

Castiel’s chest tightens a little when he thinks about the worst part of his life.

"I just moved on, I guess. I wrote about her, which helped a lot. I also started attending the support group. That’s where I got into the program that gave you my number."

Dean nods, eyes fixed on the content of his mug.

"When did you stop blaming yourself?"

Taking in a ragged breath, Cas shakes his head. "I’m not sure I ever did. But I know she would want it, so I try to forgive myself."

He places his empty mug on the bedside table and turns to Dean.

"I miss her terribly and it still hurts, but it dulled a bit after some time. You’ll get better too. And it’s fine if it takes you longer. You had it worse after all, seeing him die-" he trails off when he realizes that there’s a fat tear rolling down Dean’s cheek.

He reaches out, aiming for Dean’s shoulder, but his hand lands on the back of his neck, cupping the base of his skull. When Dean doesn’t flinch away, Cas leaves it there, rubbing the stiff muscles gently.

"its okay, Dean. Let it out. Crying is good."

Dean lets out a harsh breath that breaks into a sob.

Castiel stays silent, offering comfort through the simple touch of his hand, as Dean breaks into ugly crying.

 

It takes a few minutes before Dean’s violent sobs subside into silent sniffing. Castiel gives his neck a last comforting squeeze and withdraws his hand and he hands Dean a Kleenex. Dean blows his nose and wipes off his tears. Meanwhile Castiel turns to his bedside table where he turns on his mini system.

"Beatles?" Dean pipes up, his voice husky from crying.

"Do you prefer something else?"

"No. Just... my mom used to sing me Beatles as a lullaby."

Castiel gives him a warm smile.

"Focus on the music, it will keep your mind occupied and you won’t think about what bothers you," Cas suggests and turns the light out.

"Good night, Cas," Dean mutters as he curls on his side facing away from Cas.

"Good night."

Castiel lies down, then shifts closer to Dean so he can wrap his arm around him.

Dean immediately jerks up.

"Whoa! What are you... dude, I’m not-"

"Don’t no homo me, Dean. I’m trying to help."

Dean looks like he would like to object, but he’s too tired. With a resigned look he lies down. This time he lets Cas pull him against his chest.

Dean is so exhausted that it takes merely minutes for his breathing to even out and for him to start drifting off. The moment the sleep almost has its grip on him, he jerks awake, too afraid to let go.

Castiel thinks that maybe it’s not so much about the nightmares, but about his time in the field. He’s so used to be always on guard, always ready to fight, that he doesn’t know how to relax even though he’s in a safe place.

When it happens, Castiel squeezes him a bit tighter and keeps breathing evenly on Dean’s neck. It works to remind Dean of where he is and that he’s allowed to relax. It happens two more times, but then Dean’s consciousness finally gives up and he falls asleep. Only then Castiel allows himself to do the same.

He’s woken up by Dean stirring on the bed. He’s not wrapped around him anymore, but has his arm still loosely draped over Dean’s chest.

When he sleepily blinks his eyes open, he sees Dean lying on his back, staring at the ceiling.

"Nightmare?" Castiel asks, his voice sounds too loud in the silence of early morning.

Dean shakes his head, eyes still fixed on the ceiling like he’s looking at something Castiel can’t see.

Cas tentatively touches Dean’s arm.

"Are you okay?"

Dean finally turns to him. It must be close to dawn because it’s already light enough that Castiel can see Dean’s face quite well. Despite that he can’t read his expression, he just knows it’s making his heart beat harder.

Dean is staring at him, not moving, not even blinking, for so long that Castiel starts to doubt that he’s actually awake.

Then something like determination flicks in his eyes and he moves. He rolls to his side and pushes at Cas’ shoulder to make him do the same.

Castiel holds his breath as Dean slots himself behind him, taking the position of the big spoon.

His skin is aflame where it’s in contact with Dean’s and he can feel himself getting hard.

Dean’s actions aren’t of sexual nature though. He just melts against Cas’ body, breathing deeply with his face pressed against Cas’ neck, so Cas forces himself to relax too and just enjoys the feeling of being held. A few minutes later he’s fast asleep.

 

He wakes up with a vague feeling that his bed is empty while it shouldn’t be. He sits up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He looks around the room to see Dean shimmying into his jeans. The man stiffens minutely, surprised by Cas being awake.

"I’m leaving," he mutters, avoiding Castiel’s eyes.

"Do you have to? I thought we could have breakfast together."

This time Dean looks at him and his eyes are hard as he speaks. "There will be no breakfast, Cas, and nothing else."

Castiel frowns in confusion.

"What’s wrong, Dean?"

"This whole thing is wrong!" Dean throws his hands up. "You shouldn’t have called me. We shouldn't have met!"

Castiel crawls out of the bed and takes a step towards Dean, he looks at him intensely with his head tilted.

"I don’t understand, Dean. I thought it helped you, if just a little."

Dean shakes his head. "We can’t do this. I can’t let you... I will drag you down with me. I will take too much from you."

"Take too much... What are you talking about, Dean? There’s nothing wrong about having a friend."

Shaking his head, Dean huffs out a mirthless laugh and runs his hand through his hair.

Castiel catches him off guard closing the distance between them and grabbing his shoulder.

Dean flinches away, eyes wide and terrified like a wild animal.

"Don’t-" he breathes out.

"Dean, please, let me-"

Dean’s expression suddenly hardens.

"I don’t want your help, Cas. I’m not your charity case and I’m not your sister."

Castiel feels a pang of pain, he takes a deep breath to stay calm.

"I don’t know what makes you say those things, but please stop. I know you don’t mean it."

"You know nothing!" Dean yells. "You don’t know me and you don’t know what I’m going through! Just leave me alone."

Dumbstruck, Castiel watches him as he storms out of the room. He can’t move until he hears the door being slammed shut.

* * *

 

The following week Castiel feels himself succumbing to depression. He blames himself for Dean leaving the way he did even though his reason is telling him it wasn’t about him. His guilt over Anna comes back in its full power.

It’s hard to get out of bed, but he does it anyway. He even manages to force himself to write.

He writes about Dean. Only in his book he’s a doctor on a spaceship who loses his crew and ends up on a foreign planet where he overcomes his guilt and finds a new purpose of life. He thinks Dean would like it. He also hopes that Dean keeps his part of the deal. He doesn’t text him though, he’s sure it wouldn’t be appreciated.

Over his protests Meg invites herself for a movie night. She brings food and listens when he talks about Dean.

"So was he queer or not?" she asks when he finishes the story.

He looks up at her, surprised. "I... I don’t know. My gaydar says yes, I mean, he likes Doctor Sexy, but at one moment he freaked out when I touched him."

Meg rubs her chin contemplatively. "Hm. I think he liked you. And I mean _like_ liked you."

Castiel squints at her. "Why would you think so? There was no implication."

Meg rolls her eyes. "Just imagine that beside the crap load of burden he carries because of war and his brother, he’s also in the closet. Wouldn’t that make sense considering what he told you before he left? And I think the cuddling was a good enough implication."

Castiel feels his cheeks getting warm with a blush. "I didn’t think about it like that."

He hides his face in his hands and groans. "It doesn’t matter now. He’s gone, I missed my chance."

He looks at her, palms cupping his cheeks. "I just wish I knew he’s okay."

"I’m sorry, kiddo," Meg sighs and pats his shoulder.

 

The time spent with Meg helps him feel better and he has much more energy the next days.

He’s engrossed in writing, working on the part where the protagonist meets an alien who’s going to help him through his journey, so he almost misses the buzzing of his phone.

Not thinking about who it might be, he opens the text message. His heart stumbles as he reads.

_I couldn’t do it. I took my gun, put it into my mouth and I was ready to pull the trigger when I remembered your eyes. I thought about your beautiful smile and how good it felt to put it there and I thought that maybe, just maybe it could be enough to live for._

Castiel presses the phone against his chest and lets out the breath he was holding. He reads the text again, his hands shaking.

 _Please, let me see you_ he types.

The reply is an address.

He doesn’t even change, just throws his trench coat over his sweats and t-shirt and runs to his car.

He hesitates when he stands in front of the door of a small but well-kept house. He’s not sure what he’s afraid of, but it takes him a few deep breaths to gather the courage to knock.

When the door opens and he sees Dean, he doesn’t know if he’s more happy that he finally sees him or upset because of the state he’s in.

He looks thinner than the last time, his eyes are puffed and red rimmed and there are dark circles under them.

His lips though, curl into a shy smile when he sees Cas and it’s all the encouragement Castiel needs.

He throws his arms around Dean, squeezing him tightly. Dean returns the hug, sighing softly against Cas’ neck.

"I’m sorry for what I said. I got scared."

Cas pulls away so he can look Dean in the eyes. He cups his stubbled cheeks with his hands.

"its okay, Dean. I’m glad you reached out to me."

Dean smiles, small and sad and he leans into Castiel’s touch.

"I’m still not sure you can save me."

Castiel shakes his head.

"I’m not going to save you. It was never my intention to save you. I’m going to be by your side and hold your hand while you save yourself."

"Sounds good," Dean smiles, this time brighter.

Castiel drops his hands, but Dean catches one of them and intertwines their fingers. He’s looking at their connected hands when he speaks.

"When I said I would take too much from you, I meant...I’d like to... but I don’t know if-"

"Shh." Castiel squeezes his hand to get his attention. Dean’s eyes are hopeful when he looks up at him.

"I would. I mean I would like to try that."

Dean blinks at him slowly, worrying his lower lip with his teeth.

"Does that mean I can kiss you?"

Instead of an answer Cas leans in and Dean meets him halfway. It’s just a simple, soft press of lips, but it holds a promise.

"Let me in and let’s get you in bed. You look like hell."

Dean huffs out a laugh. "I tried to make your magic drink, but it didn’t work. I guess I’m doing something wrong."

"It doesn’t work without the cuddle," Cas answers grinning.

"Then it’s great you’re here."

Dean leads him by hand further into the house, but Cas stops, tugging at his arm.

Dean looks at him with wide eyes like he’s afraid Castiel might have changed his mind.

"You’re going to be alright, Dean."

"I’ll try. For you, for Sam, for myself."

"That sounds good," Cas replies stepping closer so he can wrap his arm around Dean’s waist.

* * *

 

They take it slow, but it seems to work quite well between them.

Dean goes back to therapy and Cas convinces him to find a support group. He’s grateful for that when he makes a friend there - an IT specialist named Charlie who has lost her parents.

He works hard on getting his PTSD under control and he learns to let Cas take care of him, which he does with pleasure. He mostly serves as a distraction, he drags Dean out of bed and makes him do things. He also stays cuddled with him on the couch when it’s too much for Dean, or even leaves him alone when it’s the best for him.

Sometimes it takes its toll on him.

They fight about it once. Dean telling Cas he has to stop putting him before himself, that this is exactly what he was afraid of. Castiel argues that it’s all worth it, that they made great progress and that Cas just needs some rest.

They end up having sex for the first time. It’s surprisingly not angry. It’s gentle and caring, full of confessions.

It’s almost exactly a year since they met each other when Dean comes home to Cas with a bright smile. When he sees Cas on the couch he thinks they should make living together official, Cas spends more time here than in his apartment anyway.

Cas looks up at him, mirroring his smile.

"Guess what’s new?" Dean asks before he flops himself on the couch next to Cas.

Cas shakes his head. "Something at the group?"

"Hm. Not really, but close. I signed up for the suicide support program," he says proudly. The prospect that he could help someone makes him excited.

To his disappointment, Castiel frowns.

"But you know you mustn’t meet them, right?"

Dean chuckles. "Yeah, no reason to be jealous, Cas. I’m not gonna break that rule again."

Castiel pouts but his eyes are shining.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I’m sure," he laughs and pulls Cas into his lap.

Castiel grins down at him. "Then it’s great," he says before leaning into a kiss.


End file.
